


airplanes

by contempomi



Category: The Resident (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23150788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contempomi/pseuds/contempomi
Summary: kit receives a text from randolph which ultimately tests her feelings for him on a way she'd never even imagined. on the other hand, the timing of it all couldn't possibly be any more tragic.orrandolph is on a plane crash and kit is all he thinks about when he hits that 'send' button.
Relationships: Randolph Bell/Kit Voss
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	1. before

_If anything happens to me, know I love you._

Kit double, triple, quadruple-checked the message and its sender. It made sense being from who it was, since they had discussed, the last time they saw each other, that he'd be in a day-long flight today, but still.

Forgive her if it was difficult to believe Randolph Bell had told her he loved her.

Her mind is all over the place, eyes shutting close and fluttering open, mind scrambling and jolting with possibilities and future promises, until she realises the full content of the message.

**_If anything happens to me._ **

She springs from her seat, mouth agape and features thoroughly shocked, and, honestly, how not to be? In this situation, what's she to do? Not like she can save him, all knight in shining armour-ish, while he was up there in the sky, Lord knows wherever exactly - that is, if the plane hasn't crash landed.

All the five calls she impatiently attempts go to Voicemail, and that's where she decides to desperately seek for aid. Stupidly enough, she accepts there's nothing she can do until she gets further news, and she resolves to page Conrad Hawkins for a chat - perhaps the most pondered and correct decision at the time.

He always was a great friend, a good listener - although they only really had the opportunity to work together here and there, he always made sure to be kind and inclusive. Perhaps that's a prominent characteristic of his personality, the charisma that comes with him.

And he doesn't fail her - he sits her down, asks her for the utmost detail about the flight, promises to move heaven and Earth until they know of his whereabouts, and, at last, asks Kit how she's doing herself.

She thinks she's the last person Conrad should be concerned about right now, yet still, amid a stutter and on a hushed tone, she finally manages to admit she might love Randolph back. A comprehensive, yet surprised look receives her, and all she can do is sigh. The strength that takes Kit to confess this burden nearly consumes her entire being.

Soon, Conrad pages her again. She runs as fast as she can, through hall after hall.

When she arrives to the room where the doctors usually hang out and unwind, she quickly notices the atmosphere is heavier. Looking around, she sees the whole team. The team that has grown to support and befriend Randolph with time.

Conrad, Nic, Devon, AJ, Mina, Irving and Jessica.

A soft smile is plastered on Kit's features. Something about the strength of a strong, loving group joining forces makes her nearly positive, she would almost dare say.

They receive her with pitiful, albeit caring stares (they clearly know how much she and Bell mean to each other), ease her into the conversation as gently as they can, before Nic decides to break the news.

The plane managed to land, although forcefully and with a major impact, and the passengers were being rushed into hospitals if needed. Randolph's hospital of choice was indeed Chastain, so it meant he would most likely be arriving any minute now, in whichever predicament he remained. They could only hope that would be the case. 

All she has to do now is wait, _wait, **wait** ,_ (as if that's simple. Her impatience and apprehension don't let her rest easy, alas, how can she wait?), and it's driving her insane.


	2. during

"How are you hanging?" A voice is heard directly behind her, and although she can't see its owner, that low tone can only belong to one person.

"Conrad-" She turns around, facing him, apprehension in her tone. She wasn’t expecting him at all at this hour. "I thought you were busy."

He immediately shrugs, "Inbetween patients. Killing time." Perhaps he was expecting a reply, but the dead beat in the air leaves him empty-handed, to which he continues, patient as ever, "Kit, you didn't answer my question."

Her eyes roll _to the ceiling_ , Conrad could swear, as she replies, clearly unnerved, "I don't know why everybody keeps asking about me. I'm not the one who's been on a plane crash."

"Come on..." His look is one of disbelief, as if he believes Kit should know better at this point - after all, she's a veteran of the doctoring gig, seeing people getting in and out, seeing tears shed, hearts broken and lives taken away way too soon - but who can blame her?

Her mind goes on a tailspin, and that's just how it is. Once her train of thought goes off and she manages to get the words out of her mouth, she can't put a stop on herself.

"Randolph comes first, and whatever I have, I'll just have to suck it up. After all, aren't we taught to be cold and calculating in these situations, or am I wrong?" Her eyebrows furrow, as if she's trying to ask a genuinely question.

Come on, _is she wrong_? At this point, she has no clue - she can't tell right from wrong, acceptable from borderline insane.

"Kit, don't be irrational."

"Irrational?" The hushed tone in which she replies does little to nothing in hiding her well visible annoyance.

"Come on, you know the patients are not the only ones that get affected. You see it everyday People like you; and even me, Nic, the others - people who care. Our minds aren't unsusceptible. We need to lean on each other sometimes."

Conrad is met with silence, followed by a heavy sigh from Kit's part.

"Look," he continues, adamant on his quest to aid the brunette, "I'm here to be the shoulder in which you lean on. If you let me."

Kit stares at the ground for a split second, with all the focus in this world - perhaps trying to fight tears, who knows? - until she finally looks up to face Conrad again, with a look of plead and two hands on his, squeezing tight. Her wrists are visibly marked in white as well as a vivid pink, due to all the **_scratching_** \- a nervous tick that quickly turned into a habit during the course of her life - and her undereyes already seem puffy as is, tired from keeping tears in at all costs.

"Lay it on me, I'm all ears."

And, to that request, Kit lets her guard down and finally expresses her feelings out loud - well, in a hushed tone, due to the fact that she's standing in a crowded place - and even way more calm and collected than she knows she would be if she and Conrad were completely alone and in strictest confidence. Her head tries to ever so rationally find the right words to say, but fails completely. She talks amid stammers and stutters that never seem to end (dear God, can she please get a grip?) but she eventually gets her point across.

Her heart, as well as her mind, do laps, and it's hard for her to retain a conclusion, but if she had to sum her thoughts in a sentence, it would probably be something like _I love him and despite everything he deserved the best of the best and it's probably too late to make things work and it's way too soon for him to be taken away from him when this barely even began **and I just want him here.**_

Everything is too messy in order for her to build coherent, grammatically correct thoughts, so they eventually become this terrifying menace to the English language. Too many and's, no commas.

Then, Conrad leaves. Kit, for one, dreads his departure. Although she's still trying her hardest to appear strong and unaffected, she can only do so much. She's concerned, and rightfully so, and adding to the fact that the world seems to be taking someone she genuinely loves away from her, how can her reality not be crumbling? Conrad was an incredible help, an attentive ear, and without his shoulder to lean on, Kit is terribly scared to fall.

Thirty-seven minutes. Thirty-seven _nail-biting, hair-fixing, hand-fidgeting, wrist-scratching minutes_ , unbearable and slow passing.

Kit paces impatiently, inevitably having to count from when Conrad left the ER, and until the first ambulance parks outside. When it does, it's like a relief is washing over her. Half a relief, in fact, because there's still the possibility that Randolph isn't inside that ambulance.

No - she shakes the thoughts off, allowing a dim sunray of positivity to flow through her. She breathes in and out, in and out, as many times as she needs in order to keep her composure, and she slowly approaches the ambulance.

And when she sees him coming out of it, her heart practically skips a beat. Some chemically-infused arrhythmia, or almost like it.

Kit swears, there and then, that she will never take Randolph's presence for granted ever again. Because he's right there, and he's alive, and she can't even begin to imagine a world where he wasn't, horrible as it would be.

She observes him from afar for a minute - him standing up and seemingly well, talking to the first responder that accompanies him. She, taking in his obliviousness of her presence while she can, steadying herself after all the stress she had to endure, cherishing the little calm before the storm.

"Kit?"

_That is, until **he** notices **her**._

The physician quickly approaches him, with an urgency that’s quite understandable, due to the occasion - is she earning odd side glances from coworkers? Most definitely, but who cares anyway?

"Are you on a break? Who are you waiting for?" Randolph asks, to her confusion.

"For _you_?" She replies, bewildered. "I knew about the plane crash, the attendings already know too, the nurses... I think half of Chastain already knows about the crash."

It's not sitting well with her, the way Randolph has no clue that Kit knows about what happened after he texted her, clearly hoping for her to put two and two together. And, looking at his eyes, he doesn't seem too clearheaded either.

"Randolph, are you alright?" She asks, her voice hushed and her eyes focused on him and him only.

He exhales, "I just banged my head a bit hard on the front seat and blacked out."

_Oh_. So he fainted. Her doctor instincts quickly kick in, ruling in possibilities of concussion, to her dismay.

“Nothing to be concerned about, though." He continues, still relaxed and carefree in appearance. God, how can someone seem so careless about himself?

"Randolph, don't do that." Kit breathes out.

_Don't treat yourself as if you're less than others. Don't ever think that, not even once. **Don't do that**_ , she thinks.

"Do what?" He inquires, and before he can contest, she's on his left, mere inches away from his hear, feeling the back of his head for abnormalities, with the utmost care and concern.

And, honestly, between Kit's visible preoccupation which he was the cause of, and the fact that it's _her_ , and he doesn't mind **_her_** , quite on the contrary, how can he say 'no'?

She steps back again, answering his question, as if it were obvious, "You should get this checked."

"Why? I'm fine. I'm alright." Is his immediate reply, as if he just doesn't want the attention to be on him, as if he hadn't been on a plane crash all along.

Randolph's concern about himself is about as prominent as if he'd fallen on the concrete, gotten up and started walking again - he just shrugs it off like it's a small thing. Kit has noticed that time and again. But heaven's sake, this is a plane crash. It's not the time to look out for anyone but himself. If there's a time when Randolph's entitled to be a little selfish, it's in moments like these; yet his doctor instinct just kicks in!

Kit understands him, it's just... he's so worth it, he's so important. He's second to none in her eyes, why can't he realize that himself?

"You were on a plane crash." She glares at him, talking slowly and articulately, pointing out the obviousness of the ridiculous. "You need to be examined, now, come on."

He chuckles under his breath and she just wonders how he can possibly be in a good mood, but that's him - unpredictable, - "I can go by myself, you know?" and her glare just returns, intense, preoccupied. "Get back to work, Kit. You're precious cargo, the hospital needs you."

"Fine." the physician sighs, resting her hand on his shoulder as a form of reassurance before she turns his back on him.

Often they didn't need words to communicate with one another, and they were, by now, rather experts of this 'silent language'. Each go their own paths. No other words are exchanged. Randolph still hides his concerns as if they don't matter at all, not at least when compared to the hundreds of patients he sees walking past him on the daily; and Kit still finds her mind on a whirl, wondering if she should approach that text - if he meant it, what exactly he meant, and even if he remembers sending it in the first place, since he had, in fact, fainted. _The possibilities take over her_.


End file.
